Ora Banda in 1938
My old home town is deserted now
The prospecting scene has been altered
But the memory lingers deep down somehow
Of brave men who never faltered
In their search for gold, in the auriferous hills.
Despite the heat and cold and winter ills
I can see them now as they blazed the track
Accepting the challenge of the great outback
With a few tools and a horse and a dray,
Hoping to morrow would be their day.
In crude bough shed they camped at night.
A hurricane lamp supplied the light
A camp oven cooked over an open fire
A billy can hung from a piece of wire,
Water was scarce, but not the flies
And sandy blight tortured the prospectors eyes.
Though at times their hopes seem forlorn
From their efforts a thriving town was born,
Created by courage so toughly displayed.
I loved this town where I worked and played.
I often wonder what those men would say
If they could see the methods they employ today
Radio equipped vehicles replace the horse and dray
And modern caravans makes camping child’s play.
My father was one of the gallant few
That’s how I know these facts are true,
And if its thought this story is propaganda
The town I refer to is Ora Banda.
By L Nazzari 1974
An early morning walk in Ora Banda 1938
Moya Sharp
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Great poem, really tells the story of outback life.
Loved it Thankyou. Nostalgia always good. I camped there a few times. Put a bowl of water out for my dog and found out how happy the bees were. Rinso Was this a nickname for a Nazzari? Xx